There’s water in a bucket across the room—I can sense it as surely as if I could see it. I pull the water and it races to me, coiling around the Ash King’s fingers, dousing his fire with a hiss of steam. The Ash King’s lips pull back in a snarl and I startle, because flames are licking through his clenched teeth. It’s as if his throat is full of fire and it’s all he can do to hold it back. Quickly I splash some of the water across his mouth, pressing the liquid between his teeth and down his throat, quenching the flames.
